


Light, bursting at the seams

by iputthepaininpainting



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Author Is Horny, Electro-stim, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fingerfucking, Lesbian Sex, Lesbians in Space, One Shot, POV Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Oral Sex, Smut, Sort Of, Sword-Weilding Lesbians, give me more warrior lesbians I NEED THEM, inappropriate use of powers, playing around with electro-stim i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 05:12:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19055902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iputthepaininpainting/pseuds/iputthepaininpainting
Summary: By that time, you have come to a realization. As you lay tangled in bed with her, breathing each other’s air in sleepy, sated content, you realize that there is no such thing as one night with her. No such thing as having fun and leaving afterward with a breezy thank-you and a wave.No, you’re keeping this one. You don’t know what you’ll have to do to make that happen, but whatever it is, by god you’ll do it. Because she deserves to be kept.[Valkyrie/ Captain Marvel porn w/out plot, because ya girl's horny and I need more lesbians in my life]





	Light, bursting at the seams

**Author's Note:**

> I've literally been dreaming about this fic forever and finally my need for it outweighed my laziness. I speed-wrote this in a migraine-induced fever dream. So uh... enjoy, I guess!
> 
> Sometimes you just need to be ate out good, ya know?

* * *

            She tastes like electricity, like copper, like blood, like the flame that licks your insides when you drink fire-whisky. She bursts at the seams with light and life, energy brimming and leaking out the cracks in bright beams, and you taste it like ambrosia, godly and powerful.

            There _are_ cracks in her façade, thank god, or you’d never have the privilege of seeing her like this. You widen those cracks with every sweep of your tongue through her folds, teasing at first to get her riled up. It takes awhile: she’s tense and tight, wound like a steel coil and fit to explode with the pressure at any given second. Pleasure doesn’t come easily to her. It’s almost painful the first time you sink a finger into her heat, you can tell by the way her spine arches and her mouth gapes open in a silent cry, quickly muffled by knuckles between her teeth. You prod and wiggle gently to get her relaxed, your heart squeezing with sympathy. It’s been so long since she was touched by another; she aches and starves for every brush of skin, every quiet, wet moan. Touched by herself, yes, many times. She’s a woman like any other, with needs like any other. But she was always too busy helping everyone else to focus on her own needs outside of a cursory touch here or there. For decades she’s been everywhere at once, her attention pulled in a million directions, so it was rare to get a moment to herself. Let alone a moment with someone else, someone she trusted enough to let into the most holy and private sanctums of her body.

            The pressure-cap rattles the longer you prod and tease, but you’re patient. Patient and eager. You drink up the sounds she makes, moans and whines and cries poorly masked, cut-off halfway through as she bites down on her fist to maintain a semblance of control, pain cutting cold through the pleasure you rain down on her. You don’t question her attempts at restraint or tell her to let loose– your mouth is too occupied anyway– but you try to communicate your strength, your readiness, with every nuzzle and lick. God, you love the way she tastes, like no other woman you’ve ever pleasured. Something about her chemistry, the thrum of the power burning within her, makes it taste like you’re drinking starlight.

            The pleasure builds and despite her attempts to leash herself, she begins to crack apart. You’ve been kneeling here on the floor by the bed with her legs over your shoulders for so long you’ve lost track of the time, and all the build-up is paying off. No doubt it’s the most intense pleasure she’s felt in decades, swelling to a climax like nothing either of you have ever felt before. She takes her knuckles from between her teeth to grip the sheets, leaning back on her elbows and rolling her hips into your mouth, riding your two fingers for everything she’s worth.

            You’ve barely said a word to each other since this started, but without the restraint of her hand over her mouth she can’t help but babble and cry out. She begs for another finger and the begging is music to your ears. She needs to feel something move inside of her, she needs something for her starving body to press down on and squeeze around. She’s come a long way from the beginning, the petals of her flower unfolding one by one as she opened up for you. She accepts a third finger with a grateful moan, loose and pliant beneath your lips.

            Bolts of lightning race and writhe over her skin as she claws her way towards a long-awaited climax, struggling and pushing and sobbing for it. Her hair lifts in a halo of blue flame. The effect is so intense that your lips are starting to tingle, your tongue throbbing where it prods and presses over her aching, swollen clit. You hum and moan appreciatively, nosing your way deeper into her folds, which only drives her further into insanity. You’re so cripplingly grateful that you get to be here, listening to her fall apart. So glad, so proud that you were able to strike the self-imposed chains away and bring her to the brink.

            But there’s still something she’s holding back, one last scrap of restraint damming the flood. And for good reason. You can feel the hum building, the pulse of heat and light and pure _power_ rushing just underneath her skin. If you were any other mere mortal, you might not have been able to take it. It might have burned you. But you are Asgardian, you are a Valkyrie, and you are _strong._ You want to take it, you want to weather the storm and feel it rush over you. You push against that final wall, your fingers poking and prodding at it from the inside out. Your jaw aches and your hand is starting to cramp but it’s so fucking worth it. The warmth and energy washing over you in waves makes it so you can barely even feel the ache. You’re drunk on her, on the smell and the taste and the wetness smearing your chin.

            She sobs and arches on the bed, throwing her head back to the ceiling. She groans with her need for release, she’s so _fucking_ close and you can feel it in how her body flutters and clenches around your fingers. You dare to slip the fourth and last finger inside her. She accepts it easily, almost without noticing, and fucking _hell_ that’s hot. You can’t take it anymore, you need to feel something yourself. Your other hand dives down between your own legs as her desperate, clawing fingers latch into your dark hair and her thighs start to squeeze around your head, heels digging into your back to draw you closer. You lean happily into the embrace, moaning into her as your own aching cunt gets a little much-needed attention.

            You’ve both been feeling it build for so long, you should have expected it when the wave finally broke and crashed down over you. But it still comes as a shock– literally.

            She pants shallowly as your tongue massages her swollen clit. Then you suck on it, hard, and that paired with a hard press and curl of your fingers inside her wrings a beautiful, agonized scream from her lips. She falls on her back, hands covering her face as she cries and thrusts forward against you. You can feel her squeezing hard around your hand in waves, and the rush is intoxicating. You whine as you feel your own body seize, muscles triggered and tensing with the electricity that pours from her body into you, her fire coursing through your veins. It hits you like a ram, unexpected and hotter than the flame of suns. You cum so hard and so suddenly that you momentarily stop breathing, half-smothered between her legs.

            A moment passes, and then in the come-down her legs relax and fall back down on your shoulders. You sigh, hot breath ghosting over the inside of her thigh. For a moment you both just lay there panting. You can see her body still clenching and un-clenching, so you nose into her folds and give them a last parting lick to ease her through it. She just gasps and then chuckles softly, throwing one arm over her eyes to hide in the crook of her elbow. You smile at her. Another moment of rest passes, sweat cooling on bodies, and you notice one of the hickeys you left on the inside of her thigh during your teasing. It’s fading. You turn your head and suckle on it for a little. Her poor fucked-out legs barely even have the strength to twitch in response.

            She seems to have recovered a bit by the time you’re done marking her. She struggles her way upright to look down at you, slowly shifting her legs off of your shoulder to let you up.

            “That,” she sighs, “was the best orgasm I’ve had in like… thirty years.”

            “My pleasure,” you reply with a cocky smile, appreciative eyes roving over the muscled curves of her body and up to her hazy brown eyes. Her hair is a sweat-damp mess; you decide she looks good with sex-hair. Really good.

            She beckons with one hand and you obligingly crawl up on the bed with her, groaning as your aching knees pop. Again. So fucking worth it. You both collapse on the mattress side-by-side to bathe in the glow.

            “Did you…?” she asks, one hand sliding down over your belly towards your crotch. You just chuckle and wind your fingers in hers to stop her.

            “Yeah,” you admit, “I didn’t expect to, but when you came I felt this _shock_ run through me… it was intense. I liked it.”

            Slowly, a wicked smile spreads over her face and she shoots you a look. A look that spells trouble.

            “You know, I could probably do that again if you like… my legs aren’t much use after that, but I’ve been told I have a habit of running my mouth.”

            You blink down at her, then after a moment of cognitive dissonance, you break into peals of hearty laughter. You haven’t laughed like that since the last time you went drinking with Thor, which was ages ago. Eventually, through the tears of mirth, you manage to get out a nod.

            “Yes!” you giggle, “I’m sure you do!”

            And so, after a few minute more of rest, she coaxes you into kneeling over her face. Her hands cradle your ass and then run up your thighs, touching for the sake of it. Then she lifts and guides your legs until you’re positioned over her, and pulls you down into her mouth. You have to lean forward and grab the headboard as she starts to nuzzles at your still-wet, over-sensitive pussy. She activates her power at the same time, loops and curls of blue and orange and white light arcing lazily over her skin and up onto you. The tingling and burning, coupled with the skilled circling of her tongue on your clit, has you riding her face in minutes.

            You thought you’d done your part for the night, you’d thought you would have a single quick fling with her to pass the time… but she continues to surprise you. She surprises you over and over and over again until you’re trembling and reduced to wordless whining and begging.  You’re addicted to the scent of her, to her voice and her body and the adoring look in her lovely brown eyes. You can’t get enough of her, nor she you. She hasn't been with anyone as bold as you since she became like this. Most people are intimidated by her, she confides to you between rounds. They are intimidated by her power, afraid of what she and it could do to them. But you, you're different. You touch her without fear. You're tough enough to take it, and crazy enough to revel in it. You ride the wave with her, and she thanks you for it in a language of gentle touches, of kisses, of pleasure given and received. It’s hours before you both finally exhaust yourselves.

            By the time, you have come to a realization. As you lay tangled in bed with her, breathing each other’s air in sleepy, sated content, you realize that there is no such thing as one night with her. No such thing as having fun and leaving afterward with a breezy thank-you and a wave.

            No, you’re keeping this one. You don’t know what you’ll have to do to make that happen, but whatever it is, by god you’ll do it. Because she deserves to be kept.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come scream at me on Twitter @paininpainting or Tumblr @iputthepaininpainting. If you enjoyed, I'd love to hear why in the comments! Comments are the validation-fuel that keeps me going! I don't answer all of them but know that I treasure each one ^u^


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